The next day, late in the morning, Lance found himself once again standing at the Pryde's front door. He forced himself to ring the bell, and mere seconds later the door swung open to reveal Sandra.
"Come in, come in," she ushered with a smile. She led him past the living room where Ben sat reading the newspaper to the dining table where Kitty and Palmer were laughing. It subsided as he joined them.
"You look like crap," Palmer pointed out bluntly.
"Thanks," Lance mumbled sarcastically, smoothing a hand over his hair.
"Rough night?" Palmer asked. Lance stared at the table as he recalled the past sixteen hours. His visit to his mother, the greasy burger he had picked up to eat in the motel room only to sit like a hard lump in his stomach while he stared at the bed he had previously shared with Kitty, and a long night of tossing and turning in the other bed while his mind raced over the years he had known Mickey trying to pinpoint any hint that the man had been his father. He had finally managed to get a little sleep just as the sun was coming up and had been in no rush to revisit the Pryde household, so he let himself lay in bed for hours just trying to will himself back to sleep. When the maid had knocked on his door, he had given up, packing his bag and checking out before taking his time winding through the streets of his hometown.
"You could say that," Lance finally answered, unable to explain that rough didn't even come close to how he felt.
"Palmer," Kitty interrupted as he opened his mouth to say something else, "have you packed yet?"
"No," he answered, "but it'll only take a minute."
"Why don't we go ahead and do that so we can head to the airport just after lunch," she suggested. He sighed, but got out of the chair anyways with Kitty at his heels. She paused before leaving the room and pressed a reassuring hand to Lance's shoulder for a minute before moving on.
Once they left the room, Sandra, who had stood quietly in the corner, spoke up, "I'm sorry about your father, Lance." He snapped his head in her direction, so she continued, "I know I'm probably not supposed to say that I know about all that, but I just wanted you to know. I'm sorry."
"Nothing to apologize for," Lance shrugged, feeling uncomfortable under her pitying gaze.
"Just the same," Sandra said before moving into the kitchen, presumably to fix lunch. Lance sat at the table trying to keep his anger at bay when Ben entered the room and sat down.
"Lance, I was hoping we could have a chat," he began.
"You have a topic in mind?" Lance leaned back in his chair studying the man before him.
"Actually, I'd like to ask you a favor," Ben folded his hands together on the tabletop in a business manner. Lance let out a loud laugh, but neither man noticed Palmer. He had set his suitcase by the door and was about to enter the room when something in the tone the men were discussing in made him wary. He quickly pressed his back against the wall next to the doorway, straining his ears to hear the lowered voices.
"You want me to stay away from your daughter," Lance inferred.
"I realize that's impossible under the circumstances," Ben started.
"You know what I mean," Lance cut him off.
"But yes," Ben continued, "I'd like you to use caution in your… interactions… with Kitty."
"What?" Palmer mouthed to himself as Lance broke out in another howl of laughter.
"You think my request is funny?" Ben raised his eyebrows.
"Kitty is with Bobby," Lance explained, "and I'm seeing someone else."
"Kitty never mentioned a girlfriend," Ben mused. There was a long pause of silence before he concluded, "Or she doesn't know of one."
"It's none of her business," Lance answered.
"Is it serious?" Ben asked.
"And that's none of yours," Lance growled.
"Fair enough," Ben chuckled. "I trust you care enough about this girl that I have nothing to worry about."
"You seem to have some misunderstandings about me," Lance shook his head, "so let me clear a few things up for you. I wouldn't date your daughter again if you paid me a trillion dollars. And I certainly don't want anything to do with you or your family. I'm here for one reason and one reason alone."
"I see," Ben answered, his chair making a loud scraping noise as he got up from the table. He was about to open the door to the kitchen when he turned back and added, "Maybe you're not such a bad father after all." Lance took in a deep seething breath before rising from the table and making his way towards the living room.
"Asshole," he muttered under his breath before catching a hint of movement out of the corner of his eye. He whirled around to find Palmer watching him nervously. "How much did you hear?" Lance watched him carefully.
"Enough," Palmer eyed him.
"Just… don't tell Kitty," Lance sighed and ran his hands through his hair. Palmer opened his mouth, but between not knowing what to say and Kitty currently bounding down the stairs towards them, he shut it again. They all quickly gathered back at the dining room table where Sandra was laying out a lunch of sandwiches, veggies, and fruit. Conversation was flowing once again, but Palmer hardly noticed. He was busy replaying the harsh words he had overheard between Ben and Lance and trying to understand Lance's request. What part of that was he concerned about Kitty hearing? Was he worried that some part of that conversation would upset her? And which part? A question or statement would be directed Palmer's way, but he would simply nod or smile, unable to concentrate on anything else.
When lunch was finally over, they said their goodbyes and packed up the rental car. Palmer impatiently waited for a moment alone with Lance so that he could hound him with questions, but there never seemed to be one. Lance dealt with the rental car while Kitty studied a fidgeting Palmer, and then they rode the shuttle bus and made their way through the airport in silence. It wasn't until they were checked in and Kitty had noticed that their seats weren't together that Palmer got his chance.
He and Lance were standing off to the side while Kitty smiled and laughed with the ticket agent when Palmer finally said, "So am I just supposed to keep your secrets, or are you going to tell me what all that was about?"
"He's a blowhard," Lance shrugged it off.
"Seriously?" Palmer all but yelled. He saw a look of panic cross Lance's face and they both checked that no one, especially Kitty, had noticed before either spoke again. "That's all you have to say about everything that you both said? Ben's a blowhard?"
"He was protecting his family," Lance finally spoke. "I don't blame him for that."
"Protecting them from what?" Palmer questioned. "You?"
"Look, Ben knows a whole lot more about me than you do, kid," Lance paused as he looked over to see Kitty shaking hands with the ticket agent. "And I definitely haven't been a saint."
"But…" Palmer cut himself off when Kitty began making her way towards them.
"All set?" Lance smiled.
"Yeah," Kitty answered. "Now are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"What do you mean?" Lance played innocent.
"I mean you've both been acting weird," Kitty crossed her arms over her chest and gave them a don't mess with me look, "and I want to know why."
"It's nothing," Lance said in a pleading tone. "Really."
"It was my dad wasn't it?" she shook her head angrily. "Let me guess, he gave you the stay away from my daughter speech. Again."
"How'd you know?" Palmer asked, Lance frowning as he gave away the answer. "And what do you mean again?"
"It's classic Benjamin Pryde," Kitty rolled her eyes. "No one's good enough for his little girl."
"But you're an adult," Palmer pointed out. "Can't you make your own decisions?"
"You would think," Kitty sighed. "Now let's go grab a seat. Our flight's been delayed a couple hours."
The first hour passed slowly, as they sat mostly in silence. Kitty played on her phone, Lance listened carefully to each announcement, and Palmer sat between them staring out the window at the planes. Bored and tired of the silence, Palmer mentioned, "My dad used to take me to see planes."
"Really?" Kitty asked as Lance tensed up. Both of their eyes were trained on Palmer as he seemed to be trying to recall a memory.
"Yeah," Palmer frowned. "It's hard to remember, because we stopped going when I was still pretty little. I'd ask Dad to take me but there was always some reason not to. He was busy, or there was something else we could do, or… I don't know. So I stopped asking. But I've always liked watching planes take off and land. I still go watch them, now and then."
"Hey," Kitty began fumbling through her purse, digging out her wallet and pulling out some cash. "It looks like we're going to be waiting for a while so why don't you go pick out some snacks and grab a few sodas."
"Okay," Palmer shrugged taking the money and wandering off. Until he was a good distance away, Lance stayed stone still.
"Don't even say it," he finally said just as Kitty pleaded, "You should tell him, Lance."
"He can't ever know, Kitty. Do you understand that?" Lance's voice cracked as he blinked away tears.
"No," Kitty responded bluntly, "But I won't tell him."
"Really?" Lance spared a look over to her.
"Really," Kitty confirmed. "He shouldn't hear it from anyone but you. But I still think you need to tell him."
"I can't," Lance croaked, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Kitty scooted over a seat and grabbed his hand in hers, rubbing the back of his palm with her thumb. His breathing became ragged and she tugged him closer, her arms wrapping around him as he rested his head against her shoulder. When he had calmed down, he pulled away and she let her arms drop. Palmer stood over them, his arms full and his expression closely guarded.
"I didn't know what you guys liked, so I grabbed a couple things," Palmer dumped the contents into their laps except for an open bag of potato chips and an orange soda that he kept for himself. Lance handed Kitty a candy bar and she passed him a bag of pretzels as they all dug in to the junk food. When they had finished, Palmer was sitting on the floor, leaning against the window studying them while Lance piled all the trash into a bag. Kitty was once again going through her purse. This time, she came up with a pill bottle.
"Right after we board," she instructed as she handed the pills to Lance. He nodded, not bothering to argue. Not long after, they were on the plane and settling into their seats. Once Lance seemed to out from the sedatives, Palmer turned to Kitty.
"There's something that's bothering me," he said, catching her attention.
"What's that?" she asked nervously, setting aside her magazine.
"It's something Lance said," Palmer paused, trying to find the words. "Is he a bad guy? Has he done bad things?"
Kitty sighed in relief before answering, "He certainly thinks so. But in my opinion? No. He's made mistakes. We all have. But he's saved my life. More than once."
"Is that why you loved him?" Palmer looked over at a sleeping Lance in amazement. "For saving your life?"
"No," Kitty shook her head with a sad smile. "That's just how I knew he loved me."